To Survive
by AryaWinters
Summary: “Do you fancy her?”He was a bit dumbstruck by the question but he came to his senses within a few seconds. Harry suddenly bent closer to the sixyearold's face and whispered.“I like her as a friend, yes, but Ron over there loves her.”
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The night was silent. There was not a whisper in the trees. A pale, skeletal figure was stooped as though against a fierce wind. The moon cast deadly shadows onto his face. It was a face that was livid with hatred, one that could terrify the bravest soul alive. An insane smile lit his face, as the man crept along the bare earth. Light was streaming from the tip of the wand as he navigated his way across the rocky plain. Tonight was the night when he would show his true powers. Lord Voldemort would no longer stay in hiding. Once again people would fear him, fear the very mention of his name…

The moon shone on the ghastly wizard prison known as Azkaban. It was one of the most feared places by all wizards; guarded by so deadly a force that one could lose their soul. It was to this place that Lord Voldemort had returned. The moon shone down upon it, but it gave it no light. There were no windows and the walls were blacker than the night. Light of any kind was non-existent as though it was absorbed by the evil force contained by the walls of the prison. Shrieks filled the man's ears as he got closer, shrieks of those being tortured endlessly by the Dementors of Azkaban Prison. Hooded and cloaked their features were all but hidden, their hideously twisted faces and bloody hands were hidden in the folds of their robes, but it was not their appearance that made them so repulsive. It was the way that they could chill the warmest night, hide the brightest light, make you forget the happiest memories. They stood watch by the gate, which was once powerful and incredibly sharp but now broken and vine covered. Yet it was not less sinister, gaps in the wall made eerie shapes that resembled mutilated beings, as though it was trying to mimic those who were trapped. The Dementors watched from their invisible eyes, waiting for the one who was coming for them, someone who could set them free from the prison to which the wizarding world had banished them.

Lord Voldemort walked up to the gate, no longer stooping along so as not to be seen, not that it was necessary, for the prison was surrounded by a body of water so large the nearest town was all but invisible, the feeble light the only remnants of the city. The Dementors shifted excitedly, he had finally come!

"So we meet again," came the cold, high whisper from Voldemort's thin lips. "Too many years I have waited for this chance. The time has come for us to retake what we have lost."

The Dementors remained silent; looking down on the figure that stood before them. They were filled with hatred. His scarlet eyes stared at them, his wand pointed down towards the ground. His thin body clothed in black torn and tattered robes. Was this the person who all wizards had once feared? Was he the one who once had giants, snakes, goblins, dragons, and wicked men at his command? Were they to really believe he could save them from their empty lives? As though Voldemort knew what they were thinking; he grinned evilly. The Dementors shifted uncomfortably, for they still had no effect whatsoever. Their rattling breath brought them no moments of happiness because there was nothing before them in this empty shell of a person. It was as though he was dead, filled with no memories of goodness, or love. Lord Voldemort was as good as soulless, unable to feel as normal people could. To him there was no good and evil, it was because of this that he alone could command them. The Dementors had no power against such hate, and such poison. Voldemort could save them, yet at the same time he was their destruction.

"Where are they?" He asked, "Where are my precious followers?"

Then a voice not meant for human ears filled the air. Low and rumbling like thunder it felt like being bitten by frostbite, or pounded by hammers.

"They are inside waiting… We were having a bit of fun." Voldemort raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

"Lead me to them," and with that the Dementors swept up ahead of him into the depths of the menacing prison. The doors swung open before them and the continued walking on the slimy cold floor of the prison. The stench of rotting flesh so overpowering that it was hard to breathe, but Lord Voldermort breathed it all in with a knowing smile. This man was mad. Suddenly the Dementors turned down a corridor, and at once screams pierced the night. They realized the cold features of Lord Voldemort, but he passed them by following the hated Dementors further down the hall. At the very end where the torch light did not show, they stopped and the steady drip, drip of water was the only noise apart from the constricted breathing of the prisoners.

"They are in there, my Lord," the Dementors whispered, motioning towards the door to the left. The Dementors breathed gently into the key slit in the middle of the black door, and slowly, very slowly it creaked open. The Death Eaters were sprawled along the floor. Their bodies covered with ants and spiders, their robes torn, their limbs thin from lack of food and their eyes haunted. They turned towards the door as it was opening.

"My Lord, oh my Lord, you have rescued us once again." The desperate voice of Augustus Rookwood cried out. "We are forever in your debt, my lord," Bellatrix Lestrange looked up into the beloved eyes of her master.

"You were always in my debt, Bella." Voldemort told her furiously. "You fools, you think you would have enough sense to know not to get caught. Explain to me how it is that the lot of you could not stop five untrained students from stealing the prophecy?"

"Actually there were six students" a death eater muttered

"Silence! My point remains the same, once again Harry Potter had stopped me in my tracks and I am left with nothing more than a bunch of worthless death eaters locked up that _I _have to come and rescue. DO YOU NOT SEE THE PROBLEM?" He roared. The Death Eaters flinched as though they had been struck with knives.

"Really my lord, it was not our fault that stupid bunch of muggle-loving fools run by Dumbledore." Once again the Death Eater was cut of before he had a chance to finish talking.

"You will pay for talking back, Crabbe," they saw Voldermort reach for his wand "_Crucio_," The shouts and cries of Crabbe filled the air.

"Would anyone else like to receive the same treatment?" Voldemort paused for a second. "I thought not. Now get up, we have no time to waste!" He turned towards the Dementors, "Give them their wands." Regretfully they took the wands out of their pockets and handed them over, and in doing so their bloody hands were revealed. With a look of loathing Lucius Malfoy stepped over and took the wands shuddering as he felt their cold wrinkled flesh brush his.

"I will deal with all of you later," he called to the Dementors, and with that he left the Death Eaters following as though Lord Voldemort was the mother hen, and they the chicks. Slowly they exited the prison, the moans of the jealous prisoners filling the air. Voldemort stopped as though there was an invisible wall, and slowly turned on his heel towards the chained prisoners. They scrambled back in fear. He smiled again, a light shining from his eyes that was not often there.

"Would you like to join me? You could leave this place behind forever. I alone have the power to make the Dementors release you." They slowly turned towards Voldemort, disgust on some of their faces, but hope on others.

"Swear now to serve me forever and I will give the word for you to be let go. And make no mistake; I will know if you betray us. If you join me now, it will be for life. Is that understood?" Slowly the prisoners nodded and a great roaring cheer for Voldemort was sounded throughout the prison, and such a cry of hope had never been heard before in those walls and the Dementors shook visibly as if it was too much for them.

"Let's go." Grinning, and cackling to himself, he lead the way out the prison with double the amount of people he had hoped for. Things were going well, he thought to himself, very well.

They had gathered on that fateful night in the one place that had always been theirs; the graveyard where Voldemort's father had been buried. The broken head stones were the evidence of the battle that had taken place in this very spot between Harry Potter and the Dark Lord. It was in this graveyard in the middle of a muggle town that Lord Voldemort had resurfaced to take control once again. Wormtail's blood still left a stain on the ground, and shards of broken stones still littered the floor. Not much had changed.

"Not even two years, my friends, and still we find ourselves in the same spot with no more than we had then. But, never mind." He looked around at the crowd of people that had surrounded him before he had started talking. The prisoners looked somewhat frightened, and exhausted; it had taken all their energy just to get her. Their skinny bodies did not have the sustenance to go on any longer.

"Sleep now, for when you are under Lord Voldemort's service you shall be taken care of. Death Eaters we have work to do." Voldemort's eyes glittered dangerously in the night that was slowly shifting towards the pale pink of the dawn.

"What my lord? Anything my lord." This time the voice of Walden Macnair penetrated the dark. The other Death Eaters nodded their agreement.

"We need more supporters. Tell me, all of you. I know you have sons and daughters. Why have they not joined us, why have they not joined the ranks of the legendary Death Eaters? Don't tell me you have had second thoughts about where your loyalties lie, and you do not wish them to have the same fate"

"O-of course n-not, it is just they are so young, and they have sch-school." Avery trailed off weakly, grimacing at the furious look upon his master's face. He kicked Avery swiftly in the stomach, and spat upon him leaving a mark that looked interestingly like a burn.

"They have school. I can not believe what I am hearing. I am the greatest sorcerer in the world, and you stand in front of me saying that your children have school. Do you not remember the vows you took, the goals we had. We are striving to perfect the world, for _your _children. Once we have removed all the worthless mud-bloods, and muggle loving fools you shall have your rewards. What is it you want? You want a good education for your children, you want your children to be happy and grow up among those who will not taint them. How can we achieve this if we do not have enough supporters to follow us, and eliminate those who stand in our path? Help me now, and when once again no one dares to oppose me you will be rewarded beyond your greatest dreams; your children's children will be rewarded beyond their greatest dreams. Tomorrow we will meet again here, and if there are no new faces there will be trouble." Slowly the Death Eaters disappeared, the prisoners still lying on the ground. Some of them looked as though they were ready to march into battle at this second. This man was surely a good man, only concerned for the future of the wizarding world. The ministry had been wrong to oppose them. If they joined with them, then surely they could have the same promise of happiness. Grins spread across their faces; they had gone from prisoners to free men in all of one night.

That night around midnight, the Death Eaters one by one, apparated into the chilly graveyard waiting to see if their master's wishes had been obeyed. Voldemort gradually appeared as though he was recovering from being invisible. The Ring of Death Eaters circled Voldemort. The new faces of Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Draco Malfoy, Jenny Rookwood, Theodore Nott, and a few others stared nervously at the surrounding Death Eaters. The older Death Eaters thrust themselves forward to the hem of Voldemort's robes, kissing the hem repeatedly as was custom. Suddenly merry voices filled the graveyard.

"Get them," Voldemort whispered malevolently. Antonin Dolohov scurried forwards and out of sight. "I see you have done well. Welcome my new Death Eaters to the family of Lord Voldemort. May your services never waver, nor your loyalty. The prisoners beside you have graciously agreed to fight for our cause. I will need each and every one of you before we can truly regain power, but first we must deal with that stupid Harry Potter." Here Voldemort paused, his nostrils flaring and his eyes glowing with detest. "We must kill him." He went on to describe his plans to lure Harry out of his house.

At that moment Antonin Dolohov returned towing three muggles. There was a woman, who looked to be in her late thirties with brown hair that was graying slightly at the roots, a man who was uncommonly tall but frail looking with a pale complexion, and pale hair. It was their daughter that was most remarkable. She had shining blonde hair, and blue eyes that were unafraid and looking at them with interest. They were bound in ropes and could not walk very well, for they kept tripping only to have Dolohov haul them back up cruelly.

"Ahhh, perfect," Voldemort smiled, showing his rotting teeth, "Hmm, who shall I pick? Ahh, Draco. I have heard remarkable things about you, Draco. It is time for you to show your strength. All of you have to prove your loyalty to me at some point, but for now let's have a bit of fun. See what damage you can do, Draco."

"I beg of you, please let us go. We have done nothing. PLEASE!" The woman screamed in fear

Draco crept forward a determined look upon his coldly handsome face. His blue eyes were narrowed in dislike, maybe repulsion. He raised his wand and pointed it at the woman.

"_Avada Kedavra_," Green light poured from his wand to hit his target. She screeched, and was thrown of her feet, where she wept huddled on the floor. The crowd watching laughed out loud. The man looked horrified.

"What kind of witchcraft is this? Please, a-at l-least let my daughter go. I beg of you." He knelt by his wife, stroking the hair off her forehead trying to be strong. They ignored him

"You have to mean it Draco," Voldemort called softly. Again Draco raised his wand this time aiming for the man that was still kneeling.

"_Avada Kedavra_," Once again green light shot from the wand, and the man started to bleed, blood pouring from his mouth and his nostrils. The Death Eaters laughed, and kicked the man and the woman. Draco began to look sick.

"Almost Draco, almost." It was his father speaking, sounding proud that his son had the chance to impress his master. Draco began to sweat, his eyes dead staring at the man who was still pouring blood. Once again he raised his wand. This time it hit the girl. She screamed piercingly, and then lay still. She was dead. Seeing this, Draco dropped his wand and stared horrified at the scene before him, grateful that his expression was hidden from the Death Eaters. Dimly he heard the mother and father screaming.

"Oh my god, she's dead!" The mother burst out sobbing. The Death Eater's laughter echoed in his ears.

"Excellent, Draco, excellent!" Voldemort was clearly pleased. Draco looked at his face, and his expression darkened.

"I j-jut killed someone, and you're _congratulating_ me?" He spat the word out, now in tears. Voldemort looked shocked. Draco continued, "I can't do this, you can kill me or whatever, but I won't keep doing this. I nearly agreed with you, I nearly agreed with you." He kept repeating this as he stood watching the mother and the father being tortured by the surrounding Death Eaters. With that, he spun around and ran out of the graveyard into the night, but before he could get more than a few meters away…

"_Crucio_." His body writhed on the floor, his eyes rolling madly into his head. His skin was on fire, punctured by the attack of the knives that were tearing him apart. Then it was over, and he lay still on the floor, his eyes burning in pain. From far away he heard his father.

"Don't kill him. Please! You don't understand. He's my only son. I am so sorry he let you down, but I will make him see the error of his ways, I promi…" He was cut off as a jet of green light flew from his master towards him. It hit him directly in the chest, and he stared disbelievingly as his body fell to the ground and lay still forever. Draco's head pounded with blood. He couldn't think. Just get out of here, escape. He thought madly to himself. Getting to his feet, he ran out of the graveyard his face streaming with tears.

Voldemort just laughed cruelly with his cold, high voice, and it was that sound that haunted Draco Malfoy forever.


	2. News Flash

**Chapter One**

'_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…'_

Harry had subconsciously gone over the words of the lost prophecy many times since his visit in Dumbledore's office, where he had first heard them. He still hadn't informed Ron or Hermione of the prophecy or of the fact that his life would have to include or end in murder, but was glad that they had not mentioned anything about the Department of Mysteries in their letters. Privet Drive was duller than ever and he felt more than anything like being at the Burrow, but remembering the visit in Dumbledore's office, he knew that that was out of the question. Dumbledore had stated his reasons for landing him with the Dursleys over the summer (he thought Harry would be safer around someone who shared his mother's blood, and completed the old form of protection). Harry, however, much disagreed now that Voldemort had the same blood flowing through his veins, and doubted whether Aunt Petunia could do anything to stop Voldemort killing him anyway. In fact, he thought, Petunia and Vernon would probably egg Voldemort on as to be ridded of their outcast nephew forever. Now that Voldemort was back at full strength, had fully revealed himself in front of the Ministry of Magic, and was no longer forced to keep hidden and lying low, Dumbledore probably wouldn't let Harry anywhere else but where he thought Harry was safest, which definitely wasn't at the Burrow or anywhere he'd like to be. He knew that he was stuck here, and unlike last summer no guard would show up to take him to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

At this, he remembered his godfather, Sirius, and his brain went blank and numb. All his thoughts drifted away, and the only thing that remained was black. He didn't want to think about his godfather now that he had finally accepted his death. Since the end of his third year at Hogwarts Harry had confided in him for everything. He was the only thing that had ever felt close to having a parent—a father, and now that Sirius was gone he felt more alone than ever. He could of course confide in Ron and Hermione, but however much they could cheer him up, it just wasn't nearly the same. Hermione who could sum up, better than anyone, the feelings of any human being would probably want Harry to talk about it, which he definitely didn't want to do. Ron would be the exact opposite and try to avoid the subject altogether, which Harry much more appreciated, but that forced him to keep his feelings inside forever. He felt alone. The only time he could ever see his godfather again was to look at the picture of him in the Daily Prophet article. It had arrived about two days into the summer holidays. He reached under his pillow and pulled out a crumpled page of the newspaper. Sirius's face beamed out at Harry from the paper and his feelings overwhelmed him again. His long black hair had a soft glow and it was no longer tatty like it had been in the last Daily Prophet article with a clipping of him in prison. His face was less gaunt but still had the same thin shape. His smile warmed Harry's heart and he felt tingly inside. Below the picture was the heading _BACK TO BLACK_. Harry read through the article again.

_Believed to be a mass murderer Sirius Black was murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange, Black's cousin, a supporter of the Dark Lord in the Department of Mysteries. Blakc was also said to be a supporter of the Dark Lord who killed thirteen people with one single curse, and lead to the Potters' death. Up until now the Ministry of Magic has thought this true, but was recently re-informed of what really happened. Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of Hogwarts, informed the Minister that they have been going after the wrong man for three years now, since Black's escape. The minister was also informed that Sirius Black, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew are all unregistered Animagi. James Potter transforms into a stag, Sirius Black transforms into a shaggy black dog, and Peter Pettigrew transforms into a rat. _

_What everyone thought:_

_Sirius Black and James Potter along with Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were best of friends during their school days, and when James and Lily Potter had Harry they named Sirius Black Harry's godfather. During the arise of the Dark Lord fifteen years ago the Potters were forced to go into hiding. They had used the Fidelius charm to hide their whereabouts and had made Black their Secret Keeper. The Fidelius charm permits information to be stored in a single living soul, the Secret-Keeper, and that information is impossible to retrieve unless the Secret- Keeper chooses to divulge it._

_It was thought that Black divulged it to the Dark Lord, and Peter Pettigrew went looking for Black to kill him. When Pettigrew found Black, Black cornered him and blasted Pettigrew to shreds. He then turned around and murdered the thirteen muggles watching. When Ministry representatives investigated the scene all they found of Peter Pettigrew was his index finger. This information however was incorrect. _

_The truth:_

_Shortly after the Potters made Black their Secret-Keeper, they thought it too obvious who they would chose to be secret-Keeper and that the Dark Lord would surely go looking for Black. They changed their Secret-Keeper last minute. They chose instead a less suspected candidate, Peter Pettigrew. It was Peter Pettigrew who was spy for the Dark Lord and told him where the Potters were. After the Potters death Sirius Black knew what Peter had done and went searching for him. Black cornered Pettigrew, who tried to kill Black. He had his wand behind his back and he fired a curse. Black was too intelligent for Pettigrew so the curse didn't kill him, but the muggles standing by. Pettigrew knew that there was no escape so he cut off his finger and transformed into a rat. He ran and Black was the only suspect thought to have committed the crime._

_After Peter Pettigrew's escape he was taken in by the Weasley family as the pet rat, Scabbers. The Weasley family knew about the rat's abnormally long life span, but thought nothing of it. Pettigrew had been going to Hogwarts as Percy Weasley's rat and then Ronald Weasley's. Black escaped Azkaban to commit the murder he was convicted of, not to come after Harry Potter as everyone thought. He wanted to get to Hogwarts to find and kill the rat._

_Ronald Weasley along with his two best friends Harry Potter and Hermione Granger found out about Scabbers's true identity at the end of their third year at Hogwarts when Black escaped. Unfortunately Pettigrew escaped the night the trio found out, so there was no evidence Black was innocent except for the word of three thirteen year olds. Black also managed to escape the Dementors that night and he has been hiding ever since._

_However he died going to the rescue of his godson Harry Potter, who was lured to the department of Mysteries by the Dark Lord (for full story see earlier prints of the Daily Prophet). It is right to believe that Peter Pettigrew is still alive and is at the hand of the Dark Lord again. Peter Pettigrew helped the Dark Lord rise for the second time two years ago, which is what Harry Potter proclaimed to be the truth. The Minister makes only one comment: "I am terribly sorry." _

A sudden creaking of floor boards told Harry that his aunt, uncle, or cousin was awake, and his mind suddenly landed back in the real world. He was lying on his back staring at the ceiling, which he did often these days. The daily Prophet article lay loosely in his hand. He sat up and examined his room. Hedwig was gone and, looking out the window he saw a clear blue, sunny sky.

He stood up and mindlessly got dressed. He wondered what the day had planned for him, other than writing to the members of The Order of the Phoenix to assure them that he was not being mistreated. At the end of last year they had showed up to have a chat with the Dursleys about how Harry was to be treated, in which Dudley had left clutching his backside, Aunt Petunia looking positively offended, and Uncle Vernon intimidated, such as Mad-eye and the others had intended. Although instead of being better treated he was now completely non-existent. He wasn't sure whether that was due to infinite fear or loathing, but it suited him better than being scowled at.

As he walked across the room to the door, he felt something brush his ear and land on his shoulder. It was the arrival of his copy of the Daily Prophet, delivered by the owl that had taken on the job of delivering to him. He untied the newspaper and rummaged through his trunk to find money to pay the owl. He paused for a moment as he came across the broken shards of glass that had once been a two-way mirror from Sirius. Hearing a hoot of impatience from the owl he retrieved his money and dropped it into the little sack on the owl's leg. It immediately took off through the open window and he proceeded to the kitchen, scanning the paper for any news on Voldemort. He didn't have to search long, for he found what he was looking for within seconds. He stopped in mid-step and read:

AN ENCORE ESCAPE

_Word came to_ _the Ministry of Magic yesterday, July 13th, of the second escape of the captured supporters of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, also known as, Death Eaters. _Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, _wearily states "We have been expecting this escape ever since the Dementors stopped taking orders from the Ministry,"_

_As the public knows they were replaced by Aurors, but they apparently were not sufficient. The Minister continues "Word has also come to our ears that not only did the Death Eaters leave, but Azkaban now only consists of four prisoners". The Minister said no more. _

_The escaped convicts of Azkaban include Lucius Malfoy; Bellatrix, Rabastan and, Rodolphus Lestrange; Walden Macnair; Mulciber; Nott; Crabbe; Goyle; Augustus_

_Rookwood; Jugson; Antonin Dolohov; Avery; Mark Riley; Gregson Parks; Gorbella Auldon; Stanley Hornback…_

Harry hurriedly skipped through the rest of the names and read on.

…_The Ministry is now sending out many representatives, including Aurors, to look for the prisoners. It is unknown where they have all gone or if the escape of the prisoners who weren't Death Eaters had anything to with the escape of the prisoners who were. They may have escaped under the influence of the Dark Lord, but he, also, has not been recently sighted._

_The Ministry is giving a thousand galleon reward to the capture of any of those mentioned above, and highly urge everyone not to panic, but to be on guard for these people. Further information on the finding of the escapees will be printed in the following copies of the _Daily Prophet.

Harry was not sure whether he should be shocked or not. Dumbledore had been forever predicting this so Harry had been well prepared for this news. The only thing that bothered him as he sat down in the kitchen was the escape of the non- Death Eaters. Was Voldemort gathering more followers that easily? Had the Death Eaters convinced them in the blink of an eye, _or_ were they forced and under the Imperius Curse? He thought to himself for a moment and decided not to worry about it. He only hoped that the Order had gathered as many followers as Voldemort.

He put down the _Daily Prophet_ after realizing that there was no other interesting news, and only then realized who it was that had made the floorboards creak. Aunt Petunia was making coffee and apparently hadn't noticed him either, unless she had and was refusing to show signs of it. Harry walked over to the couch and turned on the television. Unlike usual there was no objection. In fact, this was the first time that he had been in control of the TV converter. He flicked through the channels stopping here and there once in a while though he was paying absolutely no attention…

_The sun was shining, the glare of the light beating down upon the ruthlessly evil companions of Lord Voldemort. A cold silence filled the air. There was no sign of humanity, as though people had never dared to live here. The air was damp and cold and it pressed down making the pressure unbearable. He walked nearer to the hill where there sat an old house, and turned opposite it, to face a vast field of graves. He rolled up the left sleeve of his tattered robes and pressed his fingers to his forearm. They were long and pale. Cracking noises filled the cold air surrounding him and near five dozen witches and wizards appeared at his side to form a circle much larger than it had been only a few days ago. He was pleased to see so many people gathered in his name. One by one they emerged and bent low to kiss the hem of his robes.-_

"_And now my friends, it is time to bring back those who died for our cause. It is time…"_

_He pulled out his wand, his pale, skeletally thin figers running over the smooth surface. He looked into the puddle at his feet to see his scarlet eyes staring back at him. He was breathing shallowly, as though he was afraid, but then he was afraid of nothing. Pointing at the pile of logs that the Death Eaters and Prisoners had piled at his feet, he whispered_

"_Inflamaré." Flames shot onto the wood, and it cracked and hissed as it began to burn. The Death Eaters backed away silently. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a packet of blue coloured herbs and dropped them over the fire. Instantly the fire blazed upward ten feet, and turned a dark, dazzling blue. Like Wormtail had done previously to his father's remains he pulled out his wand, pointed it at the ground._

"_Flesh of our allies you shall be restored…" Dust rose from a crack in the ground and poured into the fire. Sparks flew into the air, and one by one the faces of his old supporters shot into the sky like fireworks. Evan Rosier was leering down upon them as though he was already alive. Travers looked still frozen in death, his eyes closed and his face rotting. Wilkes was pale but grinning, as though he knew what was about to happen. Mistral Cape, Tika Bothamely, Cristophe Ferutia were mere shadows as though their remains had been buried so long nothing was left._

_He rolled back his sleeves._

"_Give me the knife, and form a line, Death Eaters." Avery was the first in line. He pulled his arm out of his sleeve, and drew the knife horizontally across Avery's arm, cutting a deep gash that gushed blood, as he held it across the fire. It turned black suddenly and the faces disappeared. Avery cried out in pain, but remained standing._

"_Next." His voice was amused, but deadly serious. Bellatrix walked forward unsteadily and held out her arm. He repeated the same process and dropped the blood into the fire. One by one every Death Eater shared their blood until the ground was shining in the dark. His terrible voice filled the air._

"_You were united in life, now you shall be united in death," The Death Eaters dropped to the ground immediately, and lay deathly still. The prisoners cowered, fighting to get away from the terrible scene in front of them. "Blood of the master given in life to those in death, you shall unite your army. Return to your master."_

_He slit his own arm and held it over the flames. _

"_Resurrecto." A huge explosion rocked the earth. The ground crumbled and spewed in all directions. Blinding lights flashed unendingly in the night, and where there Death Eaters had fallen in death, they were now revived but now there were many more. The bodies of the dead were some how restored to their old appearances, and all of them were grinning madly, as their master had finally broken through the bonds of death. They dove to his feet, and kissed his robes._

"_So, now you have seen true power, those that were dead are now alive, united. We will never be broken again." He whispered to the silent crowd. He raised his wand to the sky; his eyes still blinded by the explosion, and whispered one word._

"_Morsmordre." The sky erupted in green light. A skull with a snake protruding hovered above them, and the faces of his followers were lit with green light._

At the same time green light flashed beneath his eyelids and his scar burned into his forehead, making him want to retch with pain. He realized he was on the ground and made himself take a few deep breaths. Miraculously he managed not to scream, although somewhere behind him someone let out a horrible screech. He rose from the floor, noticing that his shirt was sticking to him, and whipped around in time to see aunt Petunia bent low over the Daily Prophet article he had left on the table before she pulled her head away as to deny that she had taken any notice of him or his paper. Another hot-white feeling burst through his scar, but he ignored it as usual. He was shocked and panic-stricken, and could care less that Aunt Petunia had read the _Daily Prophet_, but the Dark Lord had conceived a plan that no one was aware of, but him. His dead followers were back. He now had an army even greater than anyone imagined. Harry's mind raced. Not only could Voldemort put a stopper in death, but change death to life. Rosier, Travers, Wilkes, Cape, Bothamley, and Ferutia had been the ones…dead…but now alive.

Would I have seen that if I had done occlumency? He wondered to himself. How could he trust that what he was seeing was true? His head spun with indecision, he had already made a fatal decision before that had stolen the life of his godfather. Harry was tired of making decisions. It seemed pointless, everything he did was wrong, but his dream was still nagging at him. What if what he had seen had been real? That meant he was the only one apart from Voldemort who knew what had just happened. He needed Hedwig desperately, but she was not here. Trembling, knowing that this could all be a trap he realized what he had to do. He had to alert the Order. Even if his dream was not real they should still know Voldemort was still connected to him. He walked briskly over to the door, heading for the street where he could catch the night bus to... to where? Realizing that he had no idea where to find the order he sat down hard and buried his face in his hands.

"What's wrong?" asked Aunt Petunia, quite suddenly, but still a little coldly. She had of course noticed his expression of panic. "Does it have anything to do with the escape of those people in prison?" she asked nervously.

"Well no, but I just-just realized that I have to go away." Harry didn't know why he wasn't telling her, but he wanted to get away as quickly as possible to tell someone who could actually help. He made to turn the doorknob, but Aunt Petunia squeezed his shoulder with her bony fingers as to stop him.

"NO, something's wrong. Tell me." She sounded desperate, and Harry was quite shocked. He turned to look at her.

Harry saw something funny behind those eyes that had once reflected such malicious emotions, and now looked worried, beyond any worry Aunt Petunia had ever shown.

"Voldemort just brought his dead followers, Rosier, Wilkes, Travers, and a few others back to life," said Harry quickly. He made for the door again, but Aunt Petunia screamed.

"What?" she spat with a look of mingled horror and disgust.

"Yeah, he's that powerful," said Harry informingly.

"How d'you know? Who told you?"

"I just saw it" This was the wrong thing to say, for Aunt Petunia would definitely think him delusional. He explained himself with difficulty, nearly jumping around with impatience. Voldemort was out there doing who knows what, while he was here explaining all this to_ Aunt Petunia_ while he should be talking to the Order of the Phoenix. He sighed, and tried to pull his arm free of Petunia's death grip, but couldn't succeed. He was impressed by how strong she was.

"Well... me and Voldemort are connected by my-my scar, so… I sometimes _see_ what he's doing...or feel what he f-feels."

The end of his speech came with a high-pitched squeak. Aunt Petunia apparently hadn't taken that news any better than the first bit. She, horrified, uttered three words before hitting the floor. '…_escaped…connected…alive.' _

Loud thumping noises came down the stairs and Harry knew he was in for it. He jumped back from the door, just in time for Uncle Vernon to come pelting through it.

"What have you done to her, boy!" barked Uncle Vernon furiously.

"Nothing," replied Harry truthfully innocent.

Vernon knelt beside Petunia with a loud thud, and Harry felt a flash of vibration in his feet (the cause of Uncle Vernon's dramatic fall to the floor). He mumbled to Aunt Petunia in a low, whisper of a voice.

"Petunia, are you all right, dear? Tell me what he's done. I'll have him for it, sweetums." When she didn't reply he continued. "Did he use his…thing…?" Again she said nothing. She just lay frozen on the floor, her eyes wide in horror. Dudley, the new arrival observed the unnerving seen with his mouth hanging open. His many chins, however, did not permit that extent to be very wide, but his expression of fear was evident nonetheless.

"Mummy," he said desperately.

Dudley turned his head to Harry and stared at him anxiously for what felt like hours. He turned his head to look at his father still mumbling bent over his mother, then back at Harry. Before Harry had the sense to move Dudley charged, knocking Harry over, sending him over the back of the couch and onto the floor.

"Stop it! Dudley! GET OFF!" he yelled breathlessly.

He pulled out his wand as Dudley punched him hard in the face. At the sight of it Dudley froze, his fist inches from Harry's stomach. Harry blinked many times until his vision was completely back in focus. All the hate he had ever felt towards Dudley pulsed through him again. He sat up as much as Dudley permitted him and he realized that Uncle Vernon hadn't noticed a single thing. Harry now felt a throbbing pain growing in the side of his head, but worse was the weight of a young killer whale on top of him suffocating him.

"Move. Now!" Harry insisted. He couldn't breathe and the blood was rushing to his face as he gasped for breath. His cousin however was thoroughly enjoying this, knowing that Harry couldn't use his wand anyway. Harry's wand was now barely a threat to the Dursleys because they knew that he knew that they knew that he wouldn't use his wand again, having had too many occasions on which he could have been expelled from Hogwarts. It wasn't until Aunt Petunia's shaky voice drifted through the air that Dudley sprawled off the floor to his mother's side.

"That". She pointed to the article lying on the table.

"What is it, dear?" asked Uncle Vernon. He looked at it, squinting, with a deep look of disgust on his face. The answer, however, came from Harry.

"Voldemort's Death Eaters escaped from Azkaban prison, and he brought back his dead ones from the dead."

"And what in the bloody hell are Death Eaters?" he snapped back. But this time his answer came from Aunt Petunia.

"They're supporters of the one who killed his parents". She pointed to Harry, still staring into mid-air. "They all have a mark on their left arms that calls them to him when he wants them."

There was a pause in which Uncle Vernon looked completely puzzled, and Dudley frightened. Harry presumed he was trying to get over the fact that his mother had spent all the years of her life pretending that the wizarding world didn't exist, and now suddenly was uttering the words expressionlessly, without chewing her tongue and without a deep look of loathing. Then it struck Harry.

"Hang on a minute. You knew what Dementors were and what Azkaban was. How do you know what Death Eaters are, and how do you know about the Dark Mark?"

There was another pause before a scowl.

"My mother boasted all the time about how talented and _perfect_ my sister was." Aunt Petunia was no longer on the floor, but scowling in Harry's direction. "_I_ _was never good enough! _NEVER! It was always my dear sister who got all the recognition." Her eyes were now red and watery. She continued. "I COULD NEVER DO ANYTHING!" Aunt Petunia took a deep breath. "I failed in pleasing my wart of a mother, and I never got to go to any special school, which my mother never ceased to remind me! I– AM- A- SQUIB!" Aunt Petunia's face shone bright and wet as she uttered those words.

Harry now understood. "So that's why you're horrible to me…_because you're jealous of my mother_. You knew I would get the same opportunity that you were deprived of so you made my life hell. It all makes sense now!" Harry wasn't sure whether he was angry, or whether he pitied Aunt Petunia. "Well my mother's dead anyway, so you should be quite pleased," he uttered again. Surprisingly, he said this without a tear. He made for the door a third time, and stopped yet again.

"I killed her," spat Aunt Petunia.

"What?" said the three of them in unison.

Harry's brain was about to explode. It couldn't be.

"_Voldemort_ killed my parents," said Harry, his voice rising slightly at the mention of Voldemort.

"His Death Eaters, Bella and someone else, came to my house to ask me where your mother was." She started to tremble. "They were going to kill her and her husband."

After a pause of anticipation, she continued.

"I told them that I didn't know…but they didn't believe me". Her eyes started bulging yet again, and she plainly continued to stare. "Then I felt pain beyond pain. They tortured me without touching me. They used—their wands." She gasped for breath, and held on to the table for support. It was like she was breaking down. "I couldn't resist, so I screamed…the Longbottoms. I knew that's who she was staying with, I just didn't know where. That was when they stopped, and lifted up their left sleeves, looking at something black. They said not a word, and left."

There was what felt like ten minutes before anyone spoke. That was Harry.

"You…" So far that was all he could manage. His head was reeling. Petunia had done nothing? "You… told about the Longbottoms. They wouldn't tell, so he tortured them too. He got the information from Wormtail in the end, and he murdered my parents, and diminished. The second time, Bella and someone else went for the Longbottoms again to force them to say where Voldemort was after he diminished." He didn't know who he was talking to, but continued anyways. "They were tortured into _insanity_…all thanks to…_you_!"

Harry kept quite calm considering the situation. Suddenly he was overcome with exhaustion. There were so many actions, so many consequences. Who was he to judge Aunt Petunia? Harry had had enough of death, he felt tears forming in his eyes, but he brushed them back impatiently. How could he be sure he would not have done the same thing? He was no longer angry at Petunia. Somehow since Sirius had died he felt detached, like he was watching everything happening to him from a distance. He had become calmer, more observant, and more thoughtful. Dumbledore would have called him wise, but that did not even cross Harry's mind. A few weeks ago he would have wanted to strangle Aunt Petunia, but now all he could muster was a sad sense of pity. All three Dursleys were staring at him. No one could find anything to say. Harry knew Uncle Vernon didn't want to believe what Aunt Petunia had just said, and Harry doubted whether Dudley had even understood a word of it. Harry's mind snapped back to his current problem. Hedwig was not back so he had no means of contacting the others to tell them what had happened. He would have to leave. Once again Harry broke the silence.

"Write to Dumbledore," said Harry, "and tell him that I'm taking the Knight Bus to…" He stopped. Where was he going to go? "Well, just tell him that I'm leaving…to give a warning," and with that Harry shot out of the kitchen and up to his bedroom.

Harry grabbed his trunk and threw everything inside it hurriedly. He shoved his wand back in his pocket, and rushed over to Hedwig's cage. He threw one last glance around the room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, and bolted out of the room using the locomotor charm to carry his trunk. He opened the door and burst through it, taking notice of nothing but two voices, one screaming for him not to leave and the other a fresh curse. He froze in mid-air and fell to the ground along with his trunk.


	3. Escape

**Chapter Two**

Through slightly closed and bare eyes Harry saw dark, blurry shadows surrounding him. He felt grime beneath his hands, and he realized he was no longer standing vertically like he had been a few moments ago. A cacophony of loud noises erupted in his ears. The absence of light and heat made the place even more eerie. He wasn't aware of where he was or how he had gotten there. Though as he looked around, through the overwhelming darkness and made out the shadows to be heavily-cloaked people and long lines of light, his memory came back to him like a flash of lightning. He shot a glance at the crowd to his right and realized what was happening. Panic erupted inside of him, and he trembled. An unexpected hand suddenly grabbed his chest and pulled him up onto the wall, and he was saved the trouble of formulating a plan of hurried escape. Graying hair was very close to his face now and a man spoke sharply in one long breath.

"Go through that door. It leads to a tunnel. Make your way through it and at the end you will find some of the Order. Do not make any noise whatsoever, and _close your mind_."

It seemed Dumbledore had done the same thing that he done last year in his office and had momentarily stunned everyone as to make a safe getaway. The Death Eaters and the Order, except for Lupin and Dumbledore had suddenly gone motionless and quiet, and his glasses were thrust into his hand.

"That's the signal. Now go, and don't look back."

He shoved his glasses onto his face and ran. He felt wisps of cold air pass across his uncovered arms and face, but had no time to shiver. He opened the door, and closed it quickly. He couldn't see anything but darkness.

"Lumos," he whispered, and his wand tip ignited.

The tunnel was low overhead and there was a damp feeling about. He took a slow step. The ground was no longer rock hard. It was soft and wet, and his feet seemed to sink in. He took another step with great difficulty. Raising the light further upward, the tunnel appeared to go forevermore straight until he could no longer see due to the black that surrounded him. He had no means of moving quickly without completely sinking, so he slowly walked forward. Where did this even lead? Who was waiting for him? How long would it take to get there? What did Lupin mean 'close your mind'? Harry's brain was working furiously and seemed not to be leading his feet, who continued walking on. After finding no answers to his endless questions he focused his attention on sounds coming from up ahead.

Inaudible whispers echoed in the dark, and he strained his ears to hear who they were coming from. As he continued the whispers grew louder but no more pronounced, and his ears began to ring. His head was now spinning, much like the feeling he got when using Floo Powder, and all that was visible was a white swirling mist. He felt sick. He closed his eyes and saw Voldemort slit his wrist again, and then heard the two voices of Aunt Petunia and an uttered curse. He heard bits of the prophecy. 'Close your mind'. The voice echoed repeatedly, louder and louder and he swirled faster and faster. He could not feel his mouth opening to scream, but sound was coming out all the same. He could not close his mind. The emotions he had felt earlier swept over him and disabled him to feel anything else. He heard the sharp voice again, accompanied by a high mirthless rage of laughter. He tried to move from the mist but his legs now would not move, or maybe just could not. He tried again to rid himself of all emotion and for a second the voices seemed to have stopped, but immediately came back louder than before. He was still helplessly screaming. _Stop, please stop_ he thought to himself _Stay calm, think of nothing, nothing. Empty yourself._ The voices grew quieter, along with the screams. The swirling slowed. He attempted again to close his mind, and the process repeated itself, and he now gained control of his legs. He stepped, but didn't know where he had stepped.

The floor was no longer soft but hard and slippery. His scar seared with pain. He looked round and saw the mist swirl behind him and very faintly heard whispers. However, a new voice, a real one that didn't echo, now became audible.

"We meet again," said the high voice.

It had been that voice that Harry had heard laughing and Harry knew too well who it belonged to, but where was it coming from? There was no one around, except for himself. But what if Harry couldn't see Voldemort but he was still there. Was he perhaps invisible?

"Are you all right? You look ever so pale," but there was not a tone of concern in Voldemort's voice.

His stomach felt empty and his heart seemed to be in his throat. A gathering of nerves burst through him. He didn't know what to do but his feet lead him again. He was running as he had never run before.

"You cannot escape me," said the voice to what seemed to be from Harry's left, "for I am everywhere," and the voice sounded on his right.

Harry shot a stunning curse to his left and right as he heard those words. Harry was breathing hard and fast still sprinting as fast as his legs would carry him. He needed to reach the end of the tunnel and find someone, but it was hopeless. The tunnel didn't have an end, at least not which was reachable in the near future. He had had enough of life, enough of running, and barely escaping…he was tired of death and loss, but there was no other elective now. There was no possible way of escaping. He would die anyway, at the hand of Voldemort, and the prophecy would be fulfilled. He stopped running and stood still, awaiting death. He could fire no curses at an unseen target, and he could run no further to an unreachable place. When no sound came Harry spoke.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

"Giving up are we? A few years ago you were so eager to destroy me and so confident you could."

Harry said nothing.

"You're not even going to put up a fight?"

Harry spoke again. "And would I be fighting against thin air?"

"Ah Harry, maybe I should make it a little easier for you."

Voldemort appeared a few feet from Harry, skeletal and sinister. His bony hand gripped his wand loosely.

"Is that better?"

Harry didn't pause to think.

"Expelliarmus!" shouted Harry, but Voldemort must have been prepared for this for he merely raised his hand calmly as to stop the spell. It hit his hand and rebounded upon Harry, who ducked to avoid it. Harry was dumbfounded. Voldemort had no need even for a wand.

"Stupefy," shouted Harry again.

Voldemort raised his hand again, but this time he closed his fist around the jet of light and his hand glowed blue. He opened his hand and blew the spell towards Harry as if blowing a kiss.

"Protego." An invisible shield surrounded Harry and the spell rebounded once more toward Voldemort, who waved his hand in a curvy pattern and the jet of blue light heading in his direction vanished. Harry's eyes widened and he took one step back.

"A little scared now, Potter?"

Harry was, but he wasn't going to give Voldemort the satisfaction of knowing it, so he said nothing.

"Why don't you try another one? It may well just be the last spell you perform." Voldemort spat out these words with a grin like the one Umbridge wore. He broke into a fit of hysterical high-pitched laughter that filtered through the length of the tunnel in both directions. Voldemort raised his wand, still laughing and suddenly dropped it. He turned round to see a red light shooting toward his face.

Dumbledore was standing opposite Voldemort radiating blinding light. He looked into Harry's eyes and gave him a meaningful look. Something inside him told Harry to leave, but he could not. He stood rooted to the spot. This was his entire fault…again. Flying sparks brought Harry to his senses and he realized there was nothing for him to do. Without lighting his wand, he shot off in the opposite direction running faster than he had ever run, into the darkness.

He wanted to run forever, until he no longer had the ability to make things worse, until he was far away from human company, until he was swallowed by guilt and loneliness, until he fell off the edge of the earth, until he ran into the midst of death. He wiped his face as he went, and fell onto the hard, cold floor. He got up without knowing he had fallen, and bolted up all five sets of stone steps. He felt angrier with himself with each step he took. He could never go up against Voldemort by himself. He could not kill him. He had no power that was greater than anyone else. He couldn't stun a group of people all at once. He couldn't control spells without a wand. He couldn't read minds. Even if he did have his mother's love, that wasn't a power. How would love defeat the greatest wizard of all time? He was filled with hatred beyond belief. He could've slammed his head against the stone wall right now just to relieve him of his pain and grief. He hated every particle of himself, and every part of the world. He wanted to end it. He couldn't bring himself to do it though. He rounded a corner and slowed. Sweat was pouring down his forehead and he was mildly trembling. Purple hair came into view and Tonks looked into his red eyes, but said nothing.

"Wotcher, Harry," she said slowly. She continued to stare apprehensively. "Harry, are you all right?"

He looked blankly at the floor, breathing deeply.

"We have to get you out of here. Come on."

Tonks urged him forwards, and Harry followed silently. They reached the end of the passageway and Tonks looked up. There was a ladder leading to a small hole, covered by a boulder engraved with the Dark Mark.

Tonks pointed at the boulder and said "Ascendere". The boulder rose into the air a few feet and moonlight illuminated Harry's pale and dirty, shining face as he looked up. Tonks made her way through the hole followed by Harry.

Trees surrounded them now, and Harry sat down, leaning against a giant willow. Tonks, however, remained standing, her now purple, shoulder-length hair clearly visible.

"It's not your fault, Harry," she said sounding concerned. She walked over to him and sat down to his left, putting a comforting arm around him. "You did the right thing. Anyone would've done the same. It's just that you happened to be set up."

"And I fell for it again! Which part was right? Was it the fact that I left or the fact that we all almost got _killed_!"

Ignoring his shouting Tonks replied. "But none of us blame you Harry. It was right of you to come and tell us. Like I said you were set up. They captured your owl so you couldn't write. We were just lucky to be able to find you so quickly, and that we're all going to be okay."

"News flash! I'M NOT OK! I never was OK, and I never will be!"

Tonks apparently didn't know what to say to this. She was stunned. She took away her arm, got up and looked to the sky. The moon shone brightly. Another mound of guilt fell on top of Harry, smothering the barrels of shame, hate and anger that already pressed down upon him.

"We have to go". The comforting tone of Tonks' voice had vanished, and Harry could tell she had tried to say that with as little expression as possible. Harry stood up and this time it was his turn to walk over to her. She held out her wand and said "Point me". It pointed to their left, which was apparently north. Tonks took hold of her wand, but walked the opposite direction the wand had pointed, to their right, south.

"How are we getting back?" he asked, trying to sound innocent and calm.

"There's a Portkey just up ahead. But first we have to get out of this forest."

"And where exactly is _this forest_?"

"Oh, way west of Headquarters, but still in London, and not too far from…" She stopped speaking abruptly, and tried to cover the unexpected silence by saying "not too far from St.Mungo's".

"What were you going to say before you thought of that?" said Harry suspiciously.

"Nowhere… really"

Harry normally would have kept nagging her for an answer, but he suddenly became aware of how tired he was, and all the questions that still pounded through his head, were swept to the back of his mind. He felt weak and achy. He paid no more attention to anything on the return journey, not even when he reached the Portkey.

A/N: Hey guys, thanks to everybody who has been reading so far. I would appreciate it if you could give feedback, cos this is my first fic. thanks! I don't mind flames.


	4. Suffocating Darkness

**Suffocating Darkness**

With a jarring jolt he landed firmly on his feet for the first time in his experiences of Portkeys, but he wasn't paying attention to this. He looked around the darkened street and realized that they had reached not his aunt and uncle's house, but the Order of the Phoenix headquarters. Harry's eyes stared blankly at the floor. He did not want to be here.

"Harry, Harry! Are you okay?" Tonks was starting to sound a bit perturbed and Harry knew that he should probably be feeling grateful that he was alive but he was not. A voice broke into his thoughts

"Come on, Harry, let's get you inside." Tonks took his hand and as the house appeared from in between house number 11 and 13, Tonks seized the door handle and stepped inside, pulling Harry behind her.

Harry's gaze swept the house where only a few months ago Sirius had been singing Christmas carols as loudly as possible, where Sirius had given Harry the two-way mirror he had never used. The room was strangely empty, and it occurred to him that he it had always been full in his past visits. Tonks lit the lamps and golden light shone softly into the house. It held a faintly musty smell as though no one had used it recently. Cobwebs had once again covered the ratty curtains that he remembered spending the afternoon with the Weasleys de-doxying. He looked to the staircase half-expecting to see Sirius walking down with a huge smile to greet him, but it remained dark and ominous. His heart began to pound in his ears, and his vision spun crazily. He was caught in a whirlwind of emotion and could not breathe. Sirius was not here; he would never be here again.

"How could you bring me here?" He gasped for breath. Tonks looked alarmed.

"Harry, calm down, you're going to hurt yourself." She took his hand and led him to the couch.

"HOW DARE YOU!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, wrenching his hand out of her grasp. "Don't touch me! Don't touch me!" He sat down on the sofa, placed his head in his hands and gasped in air. He still couldn't breathe.

"Sirius is gone… I can't be here. I really can't be here. I need to go." Harry got up, somewhat calmer, and began pacing furiously across the carpet in front of the fire place. At that moment the door reopened and Lupin stood in the doorway looking between Tonks, who was wringing her hands concernedly, and Harry who was still pacing, his eyes blind to all else but the image of Sirius falling through the veil.

"Everyone's back safe and sound except for--what's going on?" Lupin's thin face looked troubled. He walked up to Tonks and put his arm around her shoulders as if to offer her support. She looked exhausted.

"Harry, Dumbledore is fine," Lupin said. "He should get here sometime in the next couple of hours. I believe Molly is coming shortly; most of the Order had been informed that you are here. Why don't we all just go to bed, and sort out whatever the problem is tomorrow."

Harry looked at Lupin, astounded.

"You want _me _to stay HERE? I can't! Did you hear? I can't." With that he spun around on his heel and marched to the door as if to escape. Lupin darted instantly in front of Harry.

"MOVE! NOW!" Harry spat at Lupin. "You can't do this!"

Tonks gingerly began to speak, "Harry, I am sorry, I know this is hard but you have to stay here, at least for tonight."

However, Harry was no longer listening to reason. He lunged at Lupin and began to punch him, his hands furiously pounding Lupin's chest. Lupin winced, but did nothing to move away; instead he opened his arms and wrapped them around Harry who was now sobbing, his face dripping with tears.

"Harry, stop fighting." Lupin's voice cracked with grief. "He was my friend, too. I know what you are feeling." Tears dropped down onto the top of Harry's head.

"GET OFF ME! I HATE YOU. I HATE ALL OF YOU. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING!"

He fought Lupin's hold, struggling against his arms, but they merely tightened and held on. Once again Harry found himself without breath. He felt as though he was drowning. His head swam. Tonks rushed to Harry and Lupin and managed to keep Harry on his feet. Harry looked at the floor which was spinning slowly. It was speeding up; the carpet became a blur of colours. It spun quicker, and quicker, and he registered dimly that Lupin had pulled out his wand.

"Tonks, this can't go on." Lupin was still fighting to hold Harry.

He could not catch his breath, his knees weakened and he sagged to the ground as red light enveloped his body. Harry gave in with a sigh. Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was gone for now.

He woke up slowly, his eyes gazing blearily at the wall beside him. There was a picture of a family he didn't know. The father was a young man with dirty blonde hair, blue-grey eyes and a thin nose. The woman in the picture had brown, wavy hair and her eyes were a stunning brown colour. In the middle of the two of them a young girl was grinning, her front teeth rather large for her mouth, and her bushy hair making a sort of halo around her face. Suddenly he realized that that was Hermione, although it must have been many years ago, for she was chubbier and about three feet smaller.

Where was he? Harry could not remember getting here at all. He was lying on someone's bed. His eyes traveled around the room. The walls were a light brown colour, and the room itself was spotless. On the desk books were piled up so high it looked like the pile would fall over if you accidentally touched it. Surprisingly, there was a picture of him, Ron and Hermione together at Hogwarts, but it had been taken at the end of third year. In this picture, however, the people in it were moving, unlike the one on the wall of Hermione's family.

There was a chair in the corner, and sitting in it, to his very great surprise was Hermione herself, fast asleep, clutching Crookshanks, her bandy-legged, ugly red-haired cat to her chest.

Harry smiled faintly, realizing that this was Hermione's room, but that meant that he was in her house. When had he gotten here? The last thing Harry could remember was Lupin stopping him from running out of the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters. His memory of the previous night returned with a flash, and he lay back down on the bed and closed his eyes as those memories pained him. Harry breathed deeply, fighting back the nausea they brought him. Once again he had been fooled, Harry thought bitterly to himself. Harry Potter, the world's greatest fool. Harry swung his legs over the edge of the bed and set his feet onto the softest carpet he had ever felt in his life.

His toes sunk into the floor, making an imprint of his foot. His actions roused Hermione out of her slumber, and she sat upright blinking sleep out of her eyes. She suddenly jumped to her feet, and flung her arms around Harry, so tightly he could hardly breathe.

"Thank God you are alright!" Hermione cried in his ear, still holding onto him tightly.

"Do you realize you could have gotten yourself killed?" Hermione sounded angry at him, but he knew her too well to believe that. He held her at arms length and looked her in the eyes. She was pale, her eyes hectically searching his face for any signs of injury.

"I'm fine, Hermione, just fine," he whispered softly. He leaned down and kissed her forehead reassuringly, which only made her burst into tears. Shaking his head, he put his arm around her shoulders and made her sit on the bed.

"What's going on?" Harry was genuinely curious.

"You got here last night around four in the morning. We were all sleeping when suddenly Lupin just crashed into our house out of the fireplace carrying you. You should have seen my parents' faces, once they woke up and went downstairs" She paused to smile at him. "I wasn't even awake, but all the commotion made me jump out of bed. I went downstairs, and there you were. I thought you were dead." She broke off at this part, her eyes darkening painfully. Harry waited patiently for her to continue.

"Lupin was carrying you, sort of, and you weren't awake. I guess I must have looked horrible because Lupin immediately told me that you had just been Stunned. We put you in my bed and then Lupin woke you, but you fell back asleep right away. Tonks arrived shortly after Lupin, and they explained what had happened the night before. How y-you sort of went nuts." She stopped here and held her breath as though waiting for him to blow up at her. However there were no explosions to be heard, only a soft whisper coming from Harry.

"I felt like the world was closing in on me, Hermione. I couldn't stay in Sirius' house. It was worse than the Cruciatus Curse. Do you know," he gasped and wiped his right cheek, "I can still see his face the day he was singing Christmas carols? It's my fault he died…my fault."

He stopped to take a breath. This was the first time he had ever mentioned his feelings about Sirius to anyone, in fact the first time he had ever even mentioned his feelings. Hermione just patted his back gently and gave him a one-armed hug.

"It must have been horrible." Hermione looked at Harry whose face was etched with pain.

"They were going to make me stay the night, and… I just blew up, I guess." Harry's voice had gone even quieter, and he was looking exhausted again.

"You know we don't blame you, Harry. None of us does. It is not your fault that Sirius died, or that Kingsley is dead, do you hear me?"

Harry stared at her, horrified. "Kingsley is d-dead?" He looked shocked, and Hermione looked appalled that she had just told him that.

"How?" That was all he could manage at the moment, but Hermione did not answer.

"See, I told you everything is my fault. Everything I do is wrong! Twice now I have been tricked by Voldemort, and each time I believe him. IT'S ALWAYS MY FAULT." He felt like throwing something, but there was nothing within arm's reach.

"Two people dead, because of me. All because of baby Potter's stupidity. I can't do this anymore, Hermione, I can't do this at all."

Hermione did not ask what he was talking about but instead just took his hand.

"Harry, if any of us had visions about Voldemort we would believe them too. It is not your fault. You have to stop blaming yourself." Hermione was now looking exhausted as well. Harry wondered briefly, why she had not asked what the vision was about, but then he brought himself back to her unasked question.

"I can't. I just can't"

Harry realized this was true. Two people had died because of him, yet he was still alive. He would always be the boy-who-lived. How many people would die for him? Would he always be protected by those who were innocently trying to protect him? Would they always suffer just to keep alive a scrawny, teenage boy, who they thought was so great? Harry sighed faintly, wishing that this was over, that he was safe at Hogwarts, no longer worried about what Voldemort might have prepared for the current year. Or, even better, he wished he was where Sirius was.

"So many people, so many people because of me. I don't deserve to be alive, Hermione! I should be dead along with everyone else! I should be dead." Harry was whispering as though he was talking to himself.

"Harry, of course you shouldn't. We need you!"

"No, you don't! If it weren't for me none of this would have happened. Everything would be all right. It would be okay." Harry didn't even try to hold back his tears. He let everything go. Everything that he had held back since last year was pouring out of him onto Hermione's shoulder.

"Why me? Why me?"

This time he was not talking about why he lived while others died, but why he had to be the one to kill Voldemort. The longer he thought about this the more panicked he became. The floor began to spin again, and his heart contracted with a sudden and gripping fear. His breath came short in his tired lungs, and he gasped for breath. Harry hoped desperately that this would not be the pattern for the rest of his life. In fact, he was angry at himself for acting like a child. Try as he might, he could not pull himself together.

"Harry, Harry! Lie down on the bed, please." Hermione sounded desperate, as though she knew what was going on inside him. She pushed his shoulders down onto the mattress, took out her wand, and tapped it against his forehead. Harry's eyelids began to droop, and he knew that Hermione had spelled him to sleep. The last thing he heard was Hermione crying softly beside him, her hand still gripping her wand, her other hand wiping the hair off his forehead. Then he slept.


	5. A currently nonexistent relationship

**A Currently Non-Existent Relationship**

He was awake before anyone else and found Ron asleep with his head on the kitchen counter-top, holding a mug of what was presumably once warm milk. It was a wonder his snoring hadn't yet awoken the whole house. Ron looked the same as ever. His red hair, a bit longer than it used to be, was sticking up at all angles, his persistent smattering of freckles still covering his cheeks and nose, and his clothes were still rather patched and frayed, as well as several inches too short. Harry smiled to see him there like it was his house rather than Hermione's.

This was, surprisingly, the first time Harry had ever been to Hermione's house and he now wondered why he and Ron had never come to stay. Harry and Hermione had always escaped to the Burrow or Grimmauld Place. Harry's thoughts shifted quickly away from there. Looking around he saw that the kitchen was the complete opposite of the one at the Burrow. It was void of magical phenomena such as self-washing dishes, and flashing knitting needles. It was also much roomier. It was like the Dursleys' kitchen but without Aunt Petunia's frill. He surveyed the kitchen and noticed a door across the room to his right. He crossed the shiny floor, and turned the doorknob. He opened it slightly and saw another hallway, much like the one that led to the kitchen, dining room, and sitting area, but which was remarkably shorter. In fact the only thing the hallway led to was a door at the very end, which bore a pale blue sign with squiggly purple writing that read: Grace's room. As he made his way to open the door a red head shot out of the door to the kitchen.

"Don't!" said Ron.

"Why not?"

"They're still sleeping, you idiot."

"Who?"

"Hermione and her sister."

"Right," Harry said looking mildly surprised. He had totally forgotten that Hermione had a younger sister. Now that he thought of it he vaguely remembered her mentioning her at the beginning of first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had never actually seen her, though, because he had never been here before and she had never accompanied Hermione to Platform nine and three quarters. Maybe, Harry thought, it was because she was as brainy as Hermione, and couldn't miss out on the wonderful opportunity to learn the alphabet. That idea made him smile.

He walked back into the kitchen after Ron and sat down where Ron had been sleeping.

"Such a nice hello," Harry said, feigning hurt. "After a whole two weeks you don't even say hello. So nice to have friends who care."

"Sorry mate, I forgot, I guess." Ron looked down, his ears going slightly pink. Harry grinned.

"Have you seen her?" he asked curiously.

"Who? Her sister?" Ron asked looking grateful for a change of subject. Harry nodded.

"Oh yeah," Ron said. "I saw her yesterday when I came. She didn't talk much though."

"How old is she?"

"I dunno, but she was pretty titchy, so she can't have been more than six."

"Maybe she looks titchy because you're a marauding giant," Harry suggested with a broad grin on his face. Ron was sitting on the counter-top and still looked incredibly tall. He appeared to have grown again. He was at least a half a head taller than Harry now, who had also grown a few inches in the time they had been away from Hogwarts.

"Shut up, you git," Ron said in response to this unwelcome comment. "By the way have you heard from Hagrid this summer?"

"Yeah, once." Hagrid had written Harry a particularly tense letter. He seemed to be trying his best not to raise the topic of his godfather. Harry had stuffed the letter in his pocket a few weeks ago, and now tugged out the rather crumpled piece of parchment.

_Dear Harry,_

_How's your summer bin? Nothing much's been happening 'round here. I bin making loads of progress with…well…you-know-who…He ain't so quick to attack anymore, so I'm grateful. He even knows your name, I think. Just wanted to see how you were doing, an make sure the Muggles are treating you right, but I suppose you got loads of people looking out for you now, though. Say hi to beaky for me if you're…uh…there. _

_Hagrid _

"He didn't mention much of anything, though," added Harry as an afterthought.

"Yeah well, doesn't have much to say does he?"

"So, who's here?" asked Harry, changing the subject.

"Just me and you, mate, and Hermione's parents when they aren't working." He gave Harry a mischievous grin and got one back.

"So, when d'you reckon we should wake them?" Harry looked down the corridor as though hoping for Hermione's bushy head to peek out the doorway.

"I dunno, but soon. I'm dead starving. I didn't eat last night."

Harry suddenly became aware of how hungry he was, too. "Me too." He glanced around the kitchen again and noticed his trunk and Hedwig's empty cage in the corner.

"Oh, yeah," said Ron, looking in the same place as Harry, "Lupin brought that over after I arrived."

"Where's Hedwig? Is she okay?" asked Harry, his forehead creasing into a frown. He now knew why her absence had been abnormally long, three days to be exact.

"She's up in my room," replied Ron, "with Pig".

"I take it Lupin brought her, too."

"Yep. She doesn't even have a scratch."

Harry's memory skipped over the events of the fast few hours, and his face darkened. He hadn't forgotten about his meeting with Voldemort, but he hadn't wished to be reminded of all the people he'd hurt. Ron seemed to have noticed because he gave a weak cough as if to clear his throat, opened his mouth to say something, and shut it again. Harry broke the silence.

"If you want to know what happened just ask."

Harry didn't want to talk about it at all but he knew the subject would arise sooner or later and now was as good a time as any.

"So, what happened?" Ron asked.

"I dunno, actually. I should probably be asking you the questions."

"All mum and dad told me was that Dumbledore got a letter from your aunt saying that you had left the house to give a warning about something you'd seen in a dream."

Harry wasn't fond of the word _dream_ for such a thing, but he accepted it and continued the conversation.

"She's a Squib you know. And she never told me."

"Bugger," said Ron, frowning at the floor. "After everything you've been through you'd have thought she would have told you sooner."

"She didn't seem to be sorry she kept it from me for so long, though. I reckon she thought it would serve me right not to know. I sort of feel sorry for her in a way. When she told me, there was this defeated look in her eyes. Then she told me that she gave information to Voldemort when his Death Eaters came to her house."

"What in the bloody hell is wrong with her?" demanded Ron, looking enraged.

"They tortured her and so she told them my parents were staying with the Longbottoms."

No one spoke for a while after this. Harry had thought over this many times in Hermione's room, before he got the courage to come downstairs.

"What would you have done, Ron?" Harry asked, staring into space like Luna always did.

"I-I dunno," responded Ron thoughtfully.

"Would you have been able to stand endless torture?"

Ron didn't answer.

"I might have done the same thing," Harry said. "Does that make me as low as her?"

"Of course not!" Ron said emphatically.

"But how can I judge her if I'd have done the same thing? I'm so mixed up I can't even decide if I should hate her or not," Harry said.

"I dunno, mate. I just don't know."

Harry suddenly remembered everything else they had begun to chat about.

"Is Dumbledore, er… okay?" Harry stared down at his feet, not wanting to get anymore bad news.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I haven't seen anyone from the Order other than Lupin and he didn't stay, but I am sure they would have told us if something was wrong," he continued hastily, seeing the grim expression on Harry's face.

"Right," said Harry uncertainly, "so Dumbledore figured out where the Death Eaters had taken me and the Order came?"

"Well, sort of..." Ron said. Harry glared at him, knowing that he wasn't saying everything. "…okay, not really, but it's sort of weird how they found out." Harry was in no mood to play guessing games now. He wished Ron would just tell him straight out.

"Well?" prompted Harry, giving Ron a reproachful look.

"I got a letter and at first I didn't understand it, but then I heard mum and dad talking about how you were taken, and I showed it to them. They alerted Dumbledore, and then left. They got back late the night before yesterday, when Lupin brought you here, and they told us everything that happened. The letter was downright strange though…" Ron's speech was followed by a silence in which Harry stared at the floor.

"I suppose you know about Kingsley then," said Harry bitterly, but inside he was thinking _I suppose you know of the second life I destroyed? _

"Yeah…" said Ron. He tried not look or sound accusatory, but Harry could tell there was more feeling behind Ron's subtle voice. Harry tried to change the subject. He didn't want to think about death right now. He had had enough of it.

"Who was the letter from?"

"What?" said Ron flabbergasted. He was obviously expected an outburst from Harry.

"Who sent the letter?" asked Harry again, a bit annoyed that Ron was looking so shocked.

"Oh…er…"

"Just tell me."

"Okay…Malfoy. He sent the letter to me, and I told Hermione. I reckon he got hexed one too many times on the train." Ron said this in a very rushed manner, and several of his words got blended together so it sounded more like "Hesent the ledertome, anitol Mione. Irecko hegohexed onetoomany timz ondatrain," but Harry still got the idea.

"What!" Harry eyes snapped up from the floor to stare at Ron. Surely he was hallucinating, but he could have sworn that Ron just said Malfoy. Ron winced and stared at his overlarge feet, as if expecting another outburst, and when nothing came he fell back into his normal sitting position. Harry heard movement by the door across the room, and saw Hermione there. Her hair was matted and there was sleep in her eyes. She was still in her faded red pajamas standing in the doorframe, staring at Ron outraged.

"Ronald Weasley!" squeaked Hermione. "You didn't just…"

"He asked," Ron replied in self-defense.

"Yes, but," Hermione persisted.

"He has the right to know."

"Yes, but not yet."

"Why not?" Harry spat at her. He regretted his tone, as Hermione's face fell, but overlooked it and kept going. "Why am I always the one to be kept in dark, yet you two somehow have the right to know everything? I'm not who I used to be. I'm not that overemotional, insecure child with a scar across his face anymore. Why doesn't anyone get that?"

"Harry, I know but…" attempted Hermione, but he cut her off.

"No. It doesn't seem to have sunken in yet that I won't start raving about nothing like I did last year." His voice had risen slightly but he overlooked that as well.

"You're right," said Hermione. Her reaction was completely unexpected. She was almost always right and when she wasn't, she never admitted it as openly as she just had. Harry swore he heard Ron mutter 'for once' under his breath, and Harry retained a smile, but then he remembered what Ron had just said.

"So, Malfoy sent you a letter saying what the Death Eaters were up to?" He was having difficulty articulating his words as though this idea was too preposterous for words.

Ron nodded. Harry narrowed his eyes.

"That's not like him. At the end of last year he wanted me dead."

"Well," said Hermione in the dignified tone she used when stating a fact, "maybe Malfoy isn't the evil, horrible, heartless, soulless git with a madman for a father that he used to be, either".

"She could be right," said Ron, "here". Ron took a folded piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to Harry. Harry read.

_Weasel and Granger,_

_Potter is going to be taken Latidecerto road, which is in Underground London. Dumbledore knows all this already. _

_Draco _

"After five years of hell on earth, he just…stops."

"Well, yeah, that's what it seems," concurred Ron.

A sudden thought occurred to Harry. "Malfoy saved _my _life?"

"Scary, isn't it?" said Ron again.

Harry was feeling very mixed up. Aunt Petunia's letter had alerted Dumbledore, and Malfoy had saved Harry's life. Well, he certainly felt less like the world was against him now, and he was forced to admit that he could not have asked for more. Malfoy, along with the whole affair, was suddenly wiped from his mind.

"Harry?" Ron asked. Harry looked up from his ponderings. "What exactly did you see?"

At first Harry couldn't quite pick up on what Ron had just asked, but he knew the question was sure to arise sometime.

"I saw…I saw Voldemort bringing his dead followers back to life," Harry sighed. He felt ashamed admitting to them how stupid of a thing it was to believe.

"But, how can that be--" started Hermione.

"I know. It doesn't seem possible, but it was so…" Harry paused to find the right word. "… real".

"That's why you left?" asked Ron. "To tell us that all Voldemort's dead followers were alive?"

"Yeah, I shouldn't have believed it but I just--couldn't think."

"What if it was real, though? What if it was real, and Voldemort just intended you to see what happened?" said Ron bewildered.

"Why would he want me to see one of his greatest, most evil plans, other than to lure me out of the house?" Harry asked disbelievingly.

"Well, maybe they knew that once you came to your senses you'd think it was just like what happened last year. Maybe they wanted you to believe what you'd seen was real but in the end come to the conclusion that it wasn't. Then his plans wouldn't be ruined because no one would believe it was true."

Ron looked amazed, either because of the fact that he might have just figured something out, or because of what he'd just revealed. Harry didn't know what to say. He certainly felt a lot better thinking that what he'd seen was real. That would make him less of the idiot than he felt he was.

"Harry, that makes sense," added Hermione. She stopped leaning on the wall and was now looking at him in shock. "Have you told Dumbledore?"

"I haven't talked to Dumbledore since last year in his office". Harry fell silent. When was he going to tell Ron and Hermione about the prophecy? They would have to know. Harry thought about it and decided against it. He wasn't ready for their reactions and he was interrupted anyway.

"What were the Headquarters like?" asked Ron.

"Ron!" said Hermione disapprovingly.

"It's okay, Hermione," Harry said. He had started talking and he wasn't about to stop. He would get it over with once and for all. "The entrance is in a forest under a boulder. If you lift it up it has the Dark Mark under it and there's a hole in the ground. I didn't see all of it but there's a long tunnel underground that leads to a room. That was all I saw but there must have been more rooms because there were other doors in the room,"

"What happened down there?" asked Ron. He seemed to be very cautious about what he said. Harry explained everything from waking up to arriving in Grimmauld Place. He didn't hold back anything, not even the part about wanting to kill himself. Harry seemed to think that Ron and Hermione needed to know everything to fully understand what happened.

"I wonder if anyone knows about their headquarters," said Ron.

"Obviously they don't know about it," Hermione said, putting Ron in his place as usual. "They can't know about it. There are probably loads of spells and charms protecting people from finding it like there are on Grimmauld Place. Voldemort can't have wanted it to be found."

"Hang on a minute. How did the Order find it then?" asked Harry.

"Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard of the age. He must know something about breaking charms," said Hermione.

"Unless someone told him how to get through," said Harry.

"Like who?" asked Ron.

"Like Malfoy," said Harry.

Comprehension dawned on him. Malfoy said that Dumbledore knew all this which means he must have talked to him or written him a letter. Malfoy's father must have told him how to get through or Malfoy might have been there and seen it happen a few times. That would mean that Malfoy might be on Dumbledore's side. Or this all might be a trick to make them think Malfoy had gone good. But if Malfoy had given away Voldemort's secret place that would mean he was in a lot of danger. Voldemort would definitely know and so would his Death Eaters. That meant their kids would know too, including Crabbe, Goyle, and almost everyone from Slytherin house. What if Crabbe and Goyle had not switched sides like Malfoy, and Voldemort used them to hurt or kill Malfoy? Malfoy was in nearly as much danger as Harry, Ron, and Hermione were.

What Harry still couldn't understand was why he cared so much about what happened to Malfoy. Malfoy had been the known enemy ever since their first year. He was evil and foul. He clearly wanted Harry dead. Why the sudden change of heart? In fact, Harry thought, this served Malfoy right. All of his taunts and names made life difficult at school; there were times Harry wanted to murder Malfoy for calling Hermione a 'mudblood', for calling Ron poor, for the song the Slytherins sung to the Gryffindors during Quidditch, and for causing his suspension from the Gryffindor Quidditch team along with Fred and George.

"If Malfoy told the Order then that means he's on our side," said Ron.

"If he's on our side Voldemort would surely know," added Hermione.

"And that means that Malfoy isn't safe anymore, even at school," concluded Harry.

It seemed that Ron and Hermione had made the same connection Harry had and they were all working through it silently in their heads. All of them seemed to be at a loss for words. The only sound made was the ticking of the clock.

Suddenly they heard a loud crash. They jerked up their heads, startled, and went running into the living room to find none other than the two Weasley twins, themselves, who had knocked down the coffee table in their abrupt entrance through the fire. Harry grinned to see the two twins who were so similar they were almost indistinguishable. Fred and George stood wincing, brushing dust off their new and spectacular blue robes.

"Uh oh. Grace," and with that Hermione fled to her bedroom.

"What are _you_ doing here, you prats?" burst Ron in a voice of mock outrage, "You're supposed to be looking after your bloody joke shop."

"I don't like your tone, little bro" said Fred tutting falsely.

"And you better watch your mouth or you might well find you can't get a family discount," said George, smiling with his eyebrows raised.

"Oh, that'll be a shame. I'll just have to pay one sickle more than the rest of the family."

"A right well valuable sickle that you could use elsewhere to enrich your happiness," said George sounding astounded.

"It's a pity," said Ron sarcastically.

"Have it your way then, little bro. We'll have to inform our manager," said Fred.

"And who would that be?" said Harry joining in the conversation.

"Us," said Fred and George in unison, now looking at Harry.

"Why are you really here, apart from excluding me in the family discount," said Ron annoyed.

"Why we thought that it would have been quite obvious," said George with a grin. "Three immature adolescents can't be trusted to look after themselves, so we're here."

"--on orders from mum…"

"--to make sure you don't get into any trouble."

Ron looked at them in disbelief. "Spit it out, you two. What are you really up to?"

"We're here, of course, babysitting ickle Ronnikins and his little friends."

"No offense to you, Harry," George added quickly.

"We don't need babysitting!" shouted Ron. His ears had gone scarlet. "Especially not from you two gits".

Ron seemed to be getting overly upset about this, Harry thought to himself. It was only Fred and George, and besides, a bit of company couldn't hurt. The twins, however, did not seem fazed by Ron's clear dislike of their presence.

"My dear Ronald, you are blind to the presence of a currently non-existent relationship, and we are here to monitor it," said Fred proudly, and with that they marched into the kitchen.

"Do they ever make sense?" asked Ron who turned to Harry.

"Well, I guess you sure are as blind as they say, _Ronnikins,_" teased Harry.

A.N./ Please review! I sit in agony waiting for the moment during which you will press the magic button and give me your opinion. I apologize sincerely for not having posted before this.


	6. He Loves Her

**He Loves Her**

"Who are you?"

Harry and Ron had been there only a day and Grace had taken a liking to asking Harry the same questions over and over, and was unlike Hermione in almost every way, except for the big bush of hair surrounding her face. She wasn't in love with school, she thought everything was risk-free and did it even if she knew it wasn't, and constantly wanted to play games. Harry, who had been thinking about Malfoy, turned his attention to the little girl pulling at the knee of his pants.

"You honestly can't remember?" he asked her. She shook her head, and he sighed.

"Harry."

"How old are you?"

"The same age as your sister, 15"

"Do you fancy her?"

He was a bit dumbstruck by the question but he came to his senses within a few seconds. Harry suddenly bent closer to the six-year-old's face and whispered.

"I like her as a friend, yes, but Ron over there loves her."

Grace's face suddenly lit up with a broad grin showing her tiny, square teeth.

"I like you Harry."

"That's nice," he said, "but you should start getting to know Ron. For all you know he might be part of your family one day, and then you'll be stuck with him. OK?"

She nodded and ran over to Ron, who was playing with the television. As long as she was at least ten feet away from him, he was satisfied, and Ron seemed to feel the same way ("Do you ever shut up?" Ron asked her).

The days of July passed uneventfully in a blur of scorching days, and heavy rain storms. Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting in the Granger's living room watching the television.

"Whoever invented this thing is bloody brilliant," Ron declared after having stared at the screen for hours each day. Hermione smirked, but Harry completely ignored Ron and was staring at his feet with a dead expression. Hermione sighed, and glanced at Ron who had also noticed Harry's unusual silence. This had been happening more often of late. He would lie in bed until one o'clock, and then lie on the couch the rest of the day staring into space. He just could not motivate himself to move, and do something productive. His lethargic actions caused some worry for his friends and other member of the Order.

Harry had had frequent visitors from the combination of aurors, witches, and wizards that formed the Order of the Pheonix. Molly Weasley stopped by everyday unable to stop worrying about the three of them. Tonks and Lupin had shown up together one day to play a game of exploding snap with Harry, Ron, Hermione, the Weasley twins, and Grace. Grace had immediately taken a liking to the game and had singed her fringe the first time they played. Mundungus Fletcher had even stopped by, much to Mr. and Mrs. Granger's disapproval. He had arrived around eleven-thirty at night, smelling strongly of ale, his hair unkempt and matted. He had said hello, and then had promptly fallen asleep sitting up. These regular visitors had proved to keep Harry's mind occupied for quite a long period of time, but not long enough for the lines that now creased his forehead to disappear. Since he had been at Hermione's house he had not even stepped outside the door, as if he were afraid something would happen to him, but Hermione and Ron sensed there was more behind his peculiar behaviour.

"Harry!" He jerked and looked at Ron through bleary eyes. "What's wrong, mate?" Harry just shook his head, and looked back down at the floor.

At that moment Mrs. Granger who had just gotten home from work, came into the living room. But because both Grangers worked Harry rarely saw them, but he thought that they were very nice people. Hermione resembled her mother in the slightest manner. All three Granger girls had the same hair, and their facial features were similar, but Hermione seemed somehow unlike the rest. Her smile was diverse, and it extended to her twinkling brown eyes, a trait of her father's.

"What would you like for dinner?" Mrs. Granger looked at the three of them.

"Whatever you cook will be fine, mum." Hermione agreed, and Ron nodded his head in agreement.

"All right, then. You sure you're okay, Harry?" Mrs. Granger frowned concernedly as Harry looked up.

"Yeah, I'm alright, thanks." Harry replied. Grace, who had just entered the room ran over to Harry and sat on his knees. He smiled at the young girl who seemed to be the only person Harry seemed to bother to pretend to be happy for.

"Grace, come help mommy with dinner." She held out her hand and Grace scampered off happily.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room until Hermione stood up and said,

"Let's go swimming!"

"WHAT!" Both Harry and Ron were looking at Hermione incredulously.

"Why not, we obviously need to get out of the house," she looked meaningfully at Harry before continuing, "It will be fun."

"You want us to go swimming when Lord Voldemort could be lurking on your doorstep just waiting for you to step outside?" Harry could not believe his ears.

"Yeah Hermione, what he said." Ron was still looking outraged.

"Oh come on you guys, get over it. It's the middle of the day, what's the likelihood of Voldemort showing up here?" He had to admit that Hermione had a point. 1623 Corner road was just as tame as privet drive, the houses with their perfect gardens, and green lawns.

"You'd have to ask the Order," Harry said slowly.

"Of course, but don't you think it will be fun," This time Harry nodded to give his assent.

"Harry, how could you do that to me?" Ron was clearly unimpressed by this plan.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, now grinning.

"You, you agreed with Hermione when you know it's a stupid idea!"  
"Oh Ron, you just do not want to come because you're scared you are going to drown!" It was Hermione who spoke now.

"I-I am not sc-scared." Ron's voice had gone up in pitch several decibels, and Hermione's grin became even wider.

"Don't worry, surely Harry and I can teach poor Ron to swim without drowning."

"Shut up you two, when are we going to go?" Harry looked around noticing it was already four thirty p.m.

"Let's go now." Hermione replied

"NOW!" Ron bellowed, "Absolutely not! I refuse!"

Hermione strode over to Ron, seized his hand, which made him pause momentarily, walked over to Harry and dragged them both into the kitchen.

"Mom, is it okay if we go swimming?"

"Um, sure, have you talked to the Order?" Harry and Ron stared at her in disbelief.

"You know about the order?" Harry asked.

"Of course, you did not think I was going to let Dumbledore just leave you here without an explanation." Her eyes sparkled teasingly, and Harry wondered how much she knew, but she kept talking.

"Do Harry and Ron have swimsuits, because if they don't there is always your father's in his dresser upstairs?" Hermione turned towards the two of them inquiringly.

"I have my own here, but I don't know about Ron." Harry paused for Ron to answer, and he shook his head.

"Well they should fit," she looked Ron over in a quick appraisal. "Hermione, dear, go see if you can find them." Hermione walked towards her father's bedroom.

Grace who had heard the discussion was pulling on her mother's leg, and whining about how the world was unfair because everybody gets to do everything without her. Harry grinned, listening to her, and took pity on the furious girl, whose temper was as bad as her sister's.

"You can come with us, if you want. I don't mind, but your mom has to say okay."

"Oh Harry, that would be wonderful, thanks so much!" Harry blushed slightly to Ron's great amusement. Hermione dashed down the stairs, and they were off.

Several hours later the three of them along with Grace found themselves approaching the public outdoor pool. Ron, who was standing beside Harry, was muttering under his breath.

"This is such a bad idea. I am going to die, and my friends are in favour of this." Harry grinned hearing his words, and Hermione gave him a look that would frighten a bear away.

"Why don't you try it first before you decide it is such a bad idea." Her voice came out haughtier than usual, presumably because of the annoyance Ron was causing.

Ron and Harry went into the change rooms to get into the swimsuits then went out to join the girls. As Ron pulled off his shirt, Harry stared at his friend's arms and chest. Angry, red, purple-tinged scars wound his way across his skin, looking like a very complicated maze. Ron sensed Harry's stare, and he flushed red to the tips of his ears.

"How long have they been like that?" Harry breathed in an anxious voice.

"Every since the start of summer," Ron admitted sullenly.

"I reckon you should tell someone those aren't healing." Ron looked uncomfortable at Harry's assessment, so Harry dropped it, but he knew he wasn't about to forget the remains of Ron's fight in the Ministry of Magic. Feeling guilty all of the sudden he ducked his head. Ron knowing him for the last six years asaid bracingly,

"Mate, it's fine, let's go." Together they exited the changerooms into the bright sunshine of the afternoon.

Hermione was in a pale orange two-piece…and on her bellybutton was a silver stud, which seemed to startle Ron, as he gave a look of utter surprise.

"How long have you had that?" demanded Ron bewildered.

"What?"

"You have a bellybutton ring?"

"Oh yeah, you've never seen one have you?" A little smile played across her face.

"Yes I have, just not on you!"

"Right," she replied.

Grace, who had ignored their conversation, immediately ran to the edge of the pool and did a belly flop into the water, and Hermione left her thoughts behind.

"Grace! You can't go in the pool without me." Hermione dove in cleanly then swam over to the fast escaping Grace. Harry surveyed the pool. It was rectangular and the deep end was twelve feet. There were few other people in the pool, just an elderly lady who was doing lengths, and a mother and her son who were playing in the shallow end. Harry dipped his foot into the water to test the temperature, feeling awkward standing at the edge of the pool in his swimsuit. So taking a breath Harry jumped into the deep end and came to the surface a couple of meters away from the wall.

"Ron, come on. The water is beautiful." Hermione called to Ron who was still standing there looking as if this was the worst possible thing that could ever happen to him. Squaring his shoulders he walked over to the shallow end and stepped in. Somehow Ron's foot managed to slip on his way in and he slid under the water. A few seconds later he surfaced again coughing up water. Hermione and Harry were trying hard not to laugh, but were not succeeding.

"Look, you nutters, I don't know what you see in this swimming thing but I really don't like it, so I am just going to get out now, and you two can continue flailing around and swallowing bucketfuls of water." He stomped off huffily, which was rather difficult as the water came up above his knees.

"Harry," Hermione called to him, "watch Grace for me, and I am going to see if I can get Ron back in the pool." Harry nodded, and swam over to Grace who was happily blowing bubbles in the water.

He could hear Hermione in the distance.

"Ron, come on, it is really quite easy."

"I'm sure it is for you, in fact. You were probably born knowing how to swim."

"I was not, it's called I learned when I was younger."

"Yeah, but you know how to do everything perfectly."

"That is not true, you just don't try." Hermione was now sounding insulted.

"Oh, I don't try! Did you not just see me get in the pool?" Ron was gesticulating madly and managed to lose his balance and crash back into the water.

"Yes, but you gave up way too soon, you are never going to get anywhere that way." Their argument lasted another five minutes before Ron gave in and re-entered the pool.

Grace was now playing with Harry's hair twisting it into spikes to see how long they would stay in.

"Why do they always fight?" Harry looked down at Grace, realizing she too had been listening to Ron and Hermione.

"I have no idea." Harry had often wondered the same thing.

"If he becomes her girlfriend, I think I might move out, too much yelling for me." Harry laughed out loud in surprise.

"Where are you going to move to?" Harry pulled Grace out of the water and threw her into the air. She splashed back into the pool spraying water over Harry.

"I don't know." She replied once she caught her breath.

"Well, you tell me before you move out, okay? She nodded and went back to blowing bubbles. If only life was as simple as it had been when he was six years old he thought longingly. His thoughts drifted to Sirius as they often did, and he wondered what it would have been like to live with his Godfather. A painful lump wedged itself in his throat. More than anything, Harry wished that Sirius was here now. He could imagine him tossing Grace around, and wrestling with Ron. He shook himself out of his reverie, and concentrated on Grace who was walking away from him.

"Harry, look, Ron is swimming." Harry looked over to where Grace was pointing and saw that she was almost correct. Trying to swim would be a better description of Ron's actions. He would push off from the wall, kick his legs, and flail his arms before beginning to sink. Soon after, Hermione would swim over and yank his head out of the water murmuring words of encouragement. Harry went over to watch the two of them, who were so intent on their attempts at swimming that they did not notice they had an audience. Suddenly Harry got the feeling that they were being watched. He glanced around the pool seeing no one, but he still could not shake his unease. He wished for his wand which was sitting on the side of the pool in his pants. Harry sighed and turned back to Ron and Hermione, but he was still uncomfortable. Swinging around again he saw two heads poke around the edge of a tree trunk. Harry's heart started racing, but then he noticed the red hair and sighed in relief.

It was only Fred and George, though why they were hiding behind a tree Harry had no idea. Seeing that Harry had noticed the two of them, they put a finger to their lips, signaling him and Grace to keep quiet, then they stealthily clambered into the pool and swam over to Ron.

"Look George, our brother is obviously enjoying this little _swimming_ lesson a bit too much, if you know what I mean." Fred grinned evilly. Ron stopped trying to swim, and turned a deep red before swimming over to Fred to pound the tar out of him, as Ron so charmingly put it. Ron had unknowingly walked into a trap. While he had been yelling at Fred, George had crept around Ron, and now he was directly behind him. Yanking the waist of his swimsuit he shoved an ice cube down his shorts. Ron jumped about five feet.

"WHAT IN THE HELL IS BLOODY WRONG WITH THE TWO OF YOU!"

Ron was furiously trying to get the ice out, without looking like a fool, a feat which he was failing miserably. Fred and George were doubled over with laughter, and everyone else was laughing along with them.

"I knew swimming wasn't a good idea." Ron once again stomped out of the pool.

"No, don't go Ron. You were doing much better." Hermione begged.

"Do I hear you correctly, fair lady. Our dear Ronnikins has learned how to swim?" George said putting on a fake accent.

"Miracles do happen." Fred replied.

Ron, however did not think that this was very funny and grabbing his stuff he strode into the change room, and several minutes later they all got out.

Ron's horrid mood lasted for the last days of July, and he refused to speak to either of the twins when they showed up. In fact, he refrained from doing anything that even involved being near the twins, due to sheer humiliation. It seemed their little prank had gone right to Ron, and watching him sulk around the house with red ears, Harry wondered when it would rub off. In the mean time, Harry enjoyed Fred and George's company along with Hermione's little sister. They all had fun teaching her how to play wizard chess, while whiling away the time it took for Ron to come to his senses. She was quite good—in fact she could have given Ron a run for his money. So Harry wasted much time doing that or watching Hermione read through a dozen books a day. The only time Harry caught her not reading was on the last day of July. It was noon, and Fred and George weren't there due to their joke shop duties. An owl from the Daily Prophet flew in through the window and hooted impatiently. Harry grabbed the paper and paid the owl, watching for a few seconds as the owl soared into the morning. Scanning the paper there was one article that caught his eye.

_DECREE FOR THE REASONABLE RESTRICTION OF UNDERAGE SORCERY HAS BEEN LIFTED _

_Due to the ever increasing danger caused by the resurrection of You-know-who the Ministry of Magic has decided that students will be in grave danger for the coming weeks if they are unable to protect themselves from magical occurrences. For this reason we have decided that the students may do magic henceforth in protection of others and self defense. Parents, we urge you strongly to monitor the usage of magic in your home by anyone under the age of eighteen. Any abuse of this privilege will result in the suspension and possible expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. For a full list of spells deemed unnecessary by the Ministry of Magic, which will result in expulsion turn to page sixteen of the Daily Prophet. _

_Wishing you all a very happy, and safe holiday, _

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Mafalda Hopkirk_

_Improper Use of Magic Office_

_Ministry of Magic _

Shortly after reading the article Harry heard Ron and Hermione muttering quietly as they came down the stairs.

"…so who's coming?"

"I don't know but apparently they have it all covered, and remember, don't say a word!"

"OK, O-"

"Hi, Harry!" Hermione said in a much too cheery voice. She wore a fake smile, and Harry gave her a disapproving look.

"Who's coming where?" he asked. Hermione flushed and looked to Ron. Harry followed suit, and bore his eyes into Ron.

"Erm, nowhere…actually…"Ron hesitated.

"…actually we were just going to see a movie. Do you want to come?

"We were?" whispered Ron into Hermione's ear. She notably stamped on Ron's foot.

"Oh right," Ron said, cottoning on.

"Well fine then, if you don't want to tell me what you two are up to. Have you seen this article?" Harry pointed to the Daily Prophet and Hermione promptly picked it up to start reading.

"Wow, I can't believe they're lifting the Decree. They have never done that before," said Hermione in an awe-filled voice.

"Is anyone going to fill me in or are you just going to leave me hanging." Ron was impatiently waiting for the news.

"They lifted the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction for Underage Sorcery."

"About time, I've been waiting my whole life for this moment, no more doing dishes without magic." Ron was looking very pleased, and Harry grinned in his direction.

"Ron, please, if doing the dishes is all that concerns you at the moment you need a reality check. They aren't doing this to make your life easier, it's because since Voldemort is back we are always in danger, and you're happy about that." Hermione had her hands on her hips.

"Well, uh, yeah I guess that isn't right, but come on Hermione you always use magic at school, aren't you just a bit happy that now you can do it at home too?" Ron raised his eyebrows expectantly, as Hermione struggled to hide a smile.

"Well, I suppose so," and that was the end of the conversation.

Hermione proceeded making lunch, and Ron picked up a muggle catalogue and started flipping through it. Ron's mood seemed to have magically vanished, but he looked a little nervous.

"Where were you all morning, Harry?" asked Hermione.

Glad for the sudden change of topic, he answered.

"Oh, nowhere…just thinking." He had done a lot of thinking, but he wasn't about to pour out his soul to them. Truthfully, he had thought about everything. His mind reeled over the death of Sirius and Kingsley. He tried to sort out what his feelings toward Malfoy were now. He thought about what it would be like, being trapped in the middle of the war, and he wrestled with the meaning of the prophecy. By the end he felt lost, shameful, hated, and confused. He needed to let it all go. He needed to tell someone about everything. He felt as if he was on the verge of exploding, and though knowing this, he still wasn't about to tell Ron or Hermione or anyone else for that matter. He wasn't ready.

Ron had now put down the catalogue, and looked as if he was struggling to answer a very hard test question.

"Hermione, er, how exactly do we watch the movie with no magic?"

Harry snorted and Hermione burst into a fit of laughter, not giggling, but raw laughter. Harry walked over to Ron, patted him on the back, and thought to himself : _only Ron, only Ron._

_A/N: _

_I know Ron probably knows how to swim, but I wasn't thinking clearly when I wrote this, but it was sooo cute... anways, I left it, sorry if it is too far from canon. Anyways, please, please, please review!_

_Cheers! Antonia  
_


	7. Author's note

Hello readers,

I am feeling disinclined to continue this story. So unfortunately, I am going to take it off the site, thanks to all the reviewers.

sincerely, antonia


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